Blasted Off the Family Tree
by Muggle Jane
Summary: Sirius is NOT going to his cousin's engagement party. His mother, of course, has other ideas. Oneshot, written for Kaia for the GGE2014


**A/N: Disclaimer of not owning canon characters and situations. Written for Kaia for the GGE2014!**

Sirius winced as he heard his mother's shrill voice calling his name. She was in one of the rooms beneath, of course, she would never deign to climb the stairs all the way up to the floor he shared with his younger brother. Especially not after he'd covered his walls with his "indecent abominations."

Maybe if he ignored her, she would just stop. He knew it was a vain hope, but one he clung to as he reclined on his bed, shaking his head at her. If only her voice wasn't quite so much like fingernails on a chalkboard, it probably wouldn't carry so well.

Her voice came again, and he angrily tossed aside the glossy Muggle magazine he'd been poring through. "What?" he yelled back. Her insistent calling indicated that now she was pretending she hadn't heard him. He almost threw himself to his feet and began the descent down to the sitting room, where she was most likely holding court.

She was seated on one of the elegant wing chairs, her back straight and her nose in the air. _She really needs to take the stick out of her arse._

"You bellowed?" he queried sarcastically, stopping in the doorway to lounge against it. He knew she hated it when he did that. Maybe she would start lecturing him about manners instead of interrogating him on what he _knew_ was coming.

She gave an audible sniff. "Kreacher has informed me that you have not chosen a dress robe for your cousin's engagement party."

He gave her a wicked grin. "Of course not. I'm not going."

She seemed to be expecting this. "You _are_. You are the heir to the House of Black, and you _will_ be attending."

"I _won't_," he returned, mimicking her emphasis. His dark eyebrows rose in silent challenge.

Two pairs of steely grey eyes met in a silent contest of wills. Sirius lounged in the door, letting time spread out between them as though he really had nothing better to do with his time.

"You will," she repeated at last, her eyebrows drawing together in her vehemence.

"I won't," he drawled, lifting his own eyebrow mockingly. "Unless you don't think it would be the absolute _height_ of rudeness for one of the guests to show up under the effects of the Imperius."

"You are living in the ancestral home of the House of Black, and as such, you will do as the family requires of you." She looked so smug, her hands folding loosely in her lap as though she was already celebrating her victory.

"All right," he answered easily, and turned and swept from the room, leaving her spluttering in indignation, cursing his manners loudly. She wouldn't call after him, of course, but her passive-aggressive tendencies would not allow this to pass unchecked. Indeed, her taunts about the lack of breeding and manners present amongst Gryffindors no matter how proud the family line followed him up the stairs until he was balling his hands tightly at his sides.

His booted feet fell heavily on each step in a display of his temper, and when he reached the top of the final flight of stairs, he shut the door behind him with a loud bang. He considered opening it to slam it again, but that would just be childish. Instead, he turned his energy towards the trunk he used for school, bodily lifting it and upending it on the floor. It was something that could easily be done with magic, but grabbing things and tossing them about seemed to fit his mood better than swishing his wand around. The bits of parchment and old quills that lined the bottom of the trunk scattered themselves unheeded across the floor, and he righted it again and began tossing his belongings into it.

"Member of the House of Black?" he muttered to himself, balling up a shirt and tossing it quite forcibly into the trunk. "We'll see about that. I know you're just dying for a chance to blast me off the family tree!"

The only question was, where to go? Leaving the house would mean leaving the wealth he was accustomed to, which meant he would have to find someone to stay with. His cousin Andy said he was always welcome there, but she and Ted had a little girl and a small house- Andy had also given up the wealth of the House, and her husband was a wizard of modest means.

Remus was right out, of course. Poor bloke could scarcely keep a shirt on his own back, let alone a houseguest.

James? He stood there considering, paused in the act of throwing a pair of boots into the trunk. James. The Potters doted on their only son, and if James asked if Sirius could stay, they would certainly agree. Besides which, they'd always treated Sirius kindly, and had subtly sympathized with him having to live here in London with his family. Never overtly, of course, they were too well-bred for that.

Suddenly, the summer wasn't looking quite as miserable as it normally did. No more listening to his mother shriek his name, nor the passive-aggressive comments comparing him to his idiot of a brother... It sounded downright wonderful.

A slow grin spread across his face. He briefly debated sending his mate an owl, but he would get there before the owl would anyway. Better to just show up, knock on the door, and hope they had tea.

His anger vanished as quickly as it had sprung up, and he took out his wand and quickly levitated the rest of his belongings into his trunk. Once packed, he closed the trunk with a satisfied bang. A quick wave of his wand around the room reinforced the permanent sticking charms on all of the pictures he had hung up on the wall to spite his family. Sirius had to admit, he was going to miss that face his mother made when she thought about the pictures of the scantily-clad Muggle girls.

He levitated the trunk along behind him and thumped quickly back down the stairs.

"Where do you think you are off to?" he heard the shrill voice from the sitting room.

"I have the Trace, mother, I'm certain that even you'll be able to figure it out." He left the last taunt hanging in the air and opened the door to step outside into the summer heat. He slammed the door with a sense of finality, and was grinning again when he Apparated away to Godric's Hollow.

The Potters' house stood at the end of a lane, large and well-appointed, though not quite as opulent as the home he'd grown up in. He attributed that to the Potters actually having taste, and not just wanting to ostentatiously display every galleon they could in the hopes of impressing equally vain friends.

He walked up to the door and knocked on it. In just a moment, James' familiar bespectacled face was looking out at him. "Hullo, James," he greeted with a mock bow. "Is there tea on?"


End file.
